


Fledgling

by stepOnMeZenos



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Au Ra Xaela Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fantasy Racism, Gen, Othardian Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Set in the beginning of Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn, Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) Backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28052769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stepOnMeZenos/pseuds/stepOnMeZenos
Summary: On an ordinary day in Ul'dah, a not so ordinary patron visits the Quicksand.
Relationships: Momodi Modi & Warrior of Light
Kudos: 14





	Fledgling

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty old. Found it while looking for something else and liked it well enough, so I might as well post it.

The Quicksand was abuzz with chatter; that much was true on any given day, as it was the closest tavern to the main gates and thus frequented by travelling traders and adventurers whenever they visited Ul'dah, but today the chatter had a notably different quality. It was less boisterous than usual; gone were the drunken shouts, missing the careless laughter of the adventurers counting their coins after completing yet another job, absent the heated bartering over goods and services. Mostly, anyroad. 

The unusual atmosphere had not escaped Momodi Modi, who stood on a stool at her counter, as she was wont to. It was the reason for the change that she could not figure out. The tavern was packed; certainly there weren't fewer patrons than usual, nor were they ordering less. She could see the waiters making their rounds, taking back empty tankards and delivering freshly filled ones. There was naught happening in or around Ul'dah that would have had such an effect to her knowledge either. So what, exactly, was going on?

“Tend to the counter in my stead for a moment, would you?“ she said to a passing waiter, a spry young Lalafell who had taken the job to save up for a market stand of his own. “I'll take that to the customers for you.“

The Lalafell, though looking puzzled, didn't complain as he handed Momodi the tray covered with plates of food he'd been carrying and clambered up to Momodi's stool, ready to fulfill orders shouted at him or brought by the other waiters. 

Dutifully, Momodi took the food to the customers sitting at the corner table. Just because _something_ was going on didn't mean that she would let her patrons wait and the food grow cold. She had a reputation to uphold. 

With that done, she wandered off into the middle of the tavern, ostensibly to pick up empty tankards and plates and see whether anyone needed anything, but in reality to find the source of the disturbance.

Which did not take very long. 

There was a table in the Quicksand that stood in a secluded alcove to the side of the room. It was a popular place for businesspeople to meet and discuss deals, as its position afforded a modicum of privacy. Today, however, the alcove was occupied by a single patron, whose stark black scales, horns and spiked tail marked him out as someone _very_ unusual in Ul'dah. Especially since he made no attempt to hide them. Indeed, his clothing was most revealing, especially when compared to that of the patrons around him—his entire midriff was on full display, as was most of his legs.

Momodi noted with pleasure that the Au Ra had nonetheless been served food and drink. Having to take her waiters to task for neglecting a patron who had done nothing to deserve it wasn't something she enjoyed doing. 

Alas, the unusual yet non-hostile situation was not to last. 

Under Momodi's watchful gaze, one of the more drunken patrons rose from where he had been slumping over the table and, seemingly cheered on by his companions, staggered over to where the Au Ra sat.

Speaking to other customers, even while drunk, wasn't forbidden, but something about the way he moved made Momodi seek the eyes of a group of gladiator regulars. They'd broken up bar fights for her before, and would be willing to do it again for naught but a free round of drinks. 

“'ey you,“ the drunk patron said. He had to place both hands on the Au Ra's table to stand upright. 

“Yes?“ The Au Ra's voice was deeper than his diminutive appearance would have suggested, and though he didn't speak loudly, the commotion caused by the drunk one had quieted the room even further. Everyone would hear his words, and even if not—the entire room was watching, though some still pretended otherwise.

“Are you some kinda draggin—dregen—dragonkin from Ishgard?“ the drunk patron slurred. “Whatcher doing 'ere? Shoulda shtayed in 'shgard...“ 

“I'm not from Ishgard. I came here from Othard.“ Surprisingly, there was no accent to be heard in the Au Ra's voice. His Eorzean was impeccable. 

“But are you some dragginkin?“ The drunk burped. “I ain't ever seen something like you. Can't blame a man for being curious. Can't blame a man...“ 

The Au Ra sighed and, apparently having decided that the drunk wouldn't just leave him alone, placed his cutlery on his half-eaten plate and turned fully to face the other patron. “No, I'm not a dragonkin either. Now would you kindly return to your friends and let me finish my evening meal?“

Momodi began moving towards them, but the rest of the scene played out before she could reach the table. 

The drunk mumbled something about rude people and reached out to yank on the horns protruding from the sides of the Au Ra's head. 

In a flash, the Au Ra closed his tiny hand around the man's wrist and twisted it. The drunk yelped and staggered backwards, though it was only when the Au Ra released him that he fell backwards on his arse. 

“What the 'ells did you do that for! I didn't do nothing!“

“That didn't look like 'nothing' to me,“ Momodi said as she stepped between them. “Get out, and take yer drunk friends with you. I don't need you harassing other patrons in here. Don't come back until you've sobered up and thought long and hard about why you shouldn't ever do that again.“ 

The drunk looked as if he wanted to protest, but one of the gladiators who had followed in Momodi's wake 'gently' tapped him on the shoulder. That seemed to be enough to convince him, for he left without a further word, though not before shooting a dirty glare in the Au Ra's direction. 

“My apologies,“ Momodi said to the Au Ra. “I should have stepped in sooner. Normally, I run a good respectable establishment where patrons don't need to fend for themselves.“ 

“It's fine.“ The Au Ra picked his cutlery back up. “Such things happened a few times since I came to Eorzea. It's a bother, but, frankly, we Xaela are rowdier than that among ourselves on the regular...“ 

“Is that so? Well, I won't inundate you with more questions after you were interrogated so rudely. If you need work where you won't be subjected to nonsense like that, though, come see me at the counter. You look capable enough for what I offer.“ Momodi made to leave, now that she had ascertained that no patrons had come to harm and the troublemakers had been expelled.

“Work?“ the Au Ra asked. “I came here to learn from your thaumaturges, but I can't deny that my coinpurse could use refilling...“ 

“You finish your meal first,“ Momodi said. “Then come speak to me.“

Momodi was rinsing out used tankards when the Au Ra approached the counter. Heads all over the room turned as he walked past, though nobody else was stupid enough to bother him. Good. It would have pained Momodi to find that those frequenting her tavern were this prone to treating strangers like that. 

“Pray forgive me for not introducing myself earlier,“ Momodi said. “The name's Momodi Modi, owner of the Quicksand and head of the local adventurers' guild.“

The Au Ra nodded. “The merchant I hitched a ride with from the harbour told me that, and also that I could do worse than to contact you upon arriving in Ul'dah. My name is Sorkhatu Buduga.“ 

“Good old Brendt.“ Momodi smiled. “He brought many a fledgling adventurer to my doorstep.“

“I suppose I'll be the next one, then. What does joining your guild entail?“

“Not much,“ Momodi said. “We require you to hold to a certain standard of conduct—no cheating clients, no participating in illegal ventures, that kind of thing. Other than that, you're free to seek out jobs as you please, either from me or from anyone you meet. You'll have to hand over a portion of your rewards if you do jobs through the guild, of course.“

“Sounds fair enough,“ Sorkhatu said. “Where do I sign?“

In the years to come, Momodi would occasionally brag about the Warrior of Light starting out in her guild. Not often and not overmuch, of course; she wasn't given to fancy enough not to realise that it had been a complete coincidence, and acting as if having given jobs to him made her better than others would have been an ugly look. Still, it made for a good story to tell.

Right now, however, Momodi was fully ignorant of how this particular adventurer's story would unfold. She watched him scrawl a signature of foreign letters under the code of conduct and then told him to escort a shipment of supplies to an Immortal Flames outpost. It was a routine job; the convoy wouldn't stray so far from the city that Amalj'aa attacks were likely, and besides, he wouldn't be the only guard present. There was little danger in it. A fledgling adventurer's job.

After all, that was what he was: but another fledgling adventurer she had taken under her wing. A little bit out of the ordinary on virtue of hailing from Othard, but—so Momodi thought—no different from any of the other young'uns who came calling to join the adventurer's guild.

(It would prove to be a great lesson on how mistaken first impressions could be.)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated.


End file.
